


Broken Feathers

by SilenceoftheLlamas



Series: Soulmate AU [2]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Back at it again with the soulmate AU, Gen, Mentioned Emil/Lalli, Onni is an idiot, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-08 03:18:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10376676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceoftheLlamas/pseuds/SilenceoftheLlamas
Summary: Reynir spent the past four years of his life yearning to find his other half, wondering how it felt to be complete only to find that it wasn't quite the fairy tale he had weaved for himself.Snapshots of Reynir's adventure to the silent world and his journey back home. Runs along the events of Prism, but can stand alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love how many soulmate AU’s there are now! Got the ball rolling, now I just gotta keep it going.  
> (Oh god please help me)

Reynir remembered feeling the prickle on his skin of his shoulder, a momentary distraction from the tale his sibling was weaving. Daring fights at sea, a beast with eight limbs, and a narrow escape from a watery death. He absently rubbed at it and thought nothing of it. The fabric he wore was scratchy, his undershirt a size too large. The collar of it had a terrible habit of slipping down his shoulders and exposing the sensitive flesh, baring it to the mercy of his tunic.

He quickly forgot it as he watched the argument between his parent and siblings, head turning back and forth as if he were watching a game of catch.

But as he changed that night, preparing himself for bed, he caught sight of it in the mirror.

His skin was not red and agitated like it should have been if it had been his tunic – no – it was fine, it was totally fine, other than the odd, odd mark there.

It looked like it was supposed to be a feather, but it looked nothing like any of the birds he’d ever seen. Mottled and grey, it was fragmented and fit to fall to pieces.

“ _Muuuum_!”

He ran out of his bedroom and down the stairs, almost slipping on the wood in his socks, and stumbled into the living room. His parents were still in there, his father prodding at the fire with a metal stick while his mother held a needle in her hand and her latest tapestry project on her lap.

“What’s wrong, Reynir?” His mother asked, stabbing the needle into the fabric to keep it safe before pushing it to the side, inviting Reynir to sit next to her. Reynir replied by pulling his shirt to the side, exposing the broken feather.

“This came up on my skin, I don’t know why. I promise I didn’t get a tattoo I promise!”

“Calm down, Reynir.” She chided. “I know this isn’t a tattoo.”

“How?” Reynir frowned.

“They look different.” She replied, gently running her fingers over it. “And feel different. Honey?” She turned to look at her husband.

A final prod at the fire and he stood, placing the metal stick next to the grate and leaning down to inspect the mark.

He counted on his fingers.

“Of course, he’s sixteen.” He patted Reynir on the unmarked shoulder. “You’re fine. This,” He gestured to the mark, “Is normal.”

“But what does it mean?” Reynir asked.

“Nothing.” His father said, patting his shoulder again. “Just that you’re growing up. It’s time for you to go to bed, you’ve got an early start.”

His tone left no room for argument, so Reynir kissed them both on the cheek before retreating back upstairs.

Bjarni was stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed and a shit-eating grin on his face, Hildur stood next to him as she leaned against the wall.

“Did our little brother gain his mark?” Bjarni teased. “Look at you, finally growing up. Come on, let us see.”

Hildur gave her brother a sour look. “Don’t tease him.”

“I’m not teasing, I’m genuinely interested.” He replied, his tone betraying him.

“Ignore him.” Hildur glared at her brother as she pushed past him. “Come on, to bed.”

Hildur dragged Reynir into his room and slammed the door shut in Bjarni’s face, dusting her hands off. “Right, now the nuisance is gone, let’s have a look, little lamb.”

“You’re all acting like it’s a huge deal…” Reynir replied, pulling the shirt away none the less. “I still don’t even know what it is.”

“If you did, I think they’re scared you’d leave.” Hildur honestly replied, leaning in to get a better look. “It looks like a feather.”

“Have you ever seen it before?” Reynir hopefully asked.

“Maybe.” Hildur replied after a beat of silence. “Maybe I can find a book for you and show you the next time I’m home.”

“I’d love that!”

Bjarni knocked on the door. “Pleeeaaaase let me in! I promise I won’t be annoying!”

“No!” Hildur barked back with a thud of her own. “Go annoy mum and dad!”

“But I want to see!”

“No, you just want to tease.”

“It’s fine,” Reynir quickly interjected. “He can come in.”

Hildur threw the door open, Bjarni falling to the floor with an “Oof!” and an irritated look at his siblings. “I see where I stand.”

Hildur rolled her eyes and sat on Reynir’s bed, her legs crossed. “Take a good ol’ look.”

“Oh, wow,” Bjarni said as he turned Reynir towards the light to get a better look, “This is impressive.”

“But what is it?! What does it mean?!” Reynir whined. No one would tell him!

“It’s a soulmark.” Bjarni quickly replied, shooting a look at his sister. “We all have one.”

“What’s a soulmark?”

“It’s something that links you to your soulmate. Your other half.” Hildur patted the bed next to her, inviting both her brothers to sit. “They’re the one the universe has set aside for you.”

Reynir’s face lit up in excitement. “So there’s someone out there waiting for me? I can just go out and find them?”

“Before the illness happened, it was super easy to meet them.” Bjarni said as he folded his legs under him, leaning back against the wall. “Now, you just have to hope you’re in the same country. It’s unlikely you’ll ever meet them otherwise.”

“Oh.” Reynir looked slightly crestfallen. This foreign feather… they weren’t from Iceland. That was very, very disappointing.

“Hey, chin up.” Hildur patted him on the head. “It’s okay, you’ll find a way.”

* * *

 

The next time Hildur came to visit, Reynir was eighteen years old. He hadn’t seen his sister in two years – _two whole years!_ – and the first thing he did was rush into her arms in a flying leap and send them both toppling down.

“Hello to you too, little lamb!” Hildur laughed, picking hay out of her hair. She leaned in close to whisper something into his ear, hiding it in a hug. “I found a few books for you.”

Reynir felt excitement jolt through him. _Books_!

“Thank you!”

They both picked themselves up, brushing off dirt and hay, before coming inside.

That night, Reynir curled up in bed with a book, a candle burning brightly to his side. Hildur had said that the original copies were still in a library, but luckily she was friends with a skald who was more than happy to make some copies for her little brother. So there Reynir was, flicking through the pages to find one that matched the feather on his shoulder.

Over time, the feather had slowly healed. It wasn’t perfect – no, far from – and some days he’d wake up to see the feather had been hurt again, but it always got better. Gained more colour, became fuller and brighter.

“Eagle owl…” Reynir hummed as his fingers brushed over the page, checking and double-checking the feathers.

It was a match.

“From… Europe.” Reynir frowned.

What the hell was Europe?!

His shoulder felt wet.

Leaping out of bed, he hastily grabbed his candle and checked the roof. Was it leaking?! Did he need to get out there and fix it? But no damp showed, no evidence of water to be seen.

His shoulder still felt wet.

Carefully, he set the candle back down and peeled off his shirt.

Below the feather was a glistening water droplet, embedded into his skin.

That was… quite sad, actually.

It was already late – he could hear the house sleeping – so he decided it best to wait for morning until he revealed it and began to ask questions.

* * *

 

Reynir slowly closed his eyes in the early morning sun, allowing himself a moment – just a moment, he promised himself – to bask in its warmth before he set off to find a ship to take him to somewhere. Anywhere, even.

This was it. His bid for freedom, his chance to see the outside world. The capital wasn’t enough, it just wasn’t enough – his brothers and sisters were being _so_ unfair. _Just see the city_ , they said. _You’ve never even been that far before_.

Rubbing it in, that’s what they were doing. He’d see that they’d never do that again!

He found a ship – just one leaving that day, very much limiting his choices – and wormed his way on board. Kitchen work was easy, that was part of his job at home. If he wasn’t tending to their sheep, he was helping out his aging mother in the kitchen.

He was immensely pleased to have gotten this far indeed!

But then, just a few days in, he heard that they were getting ready to drop off two crates. Just two. They couldn’t have been there already, could they?

Apparently so.

He took out some of the tuna cans and clambered in, realising last minute that someone had probably _needed_ those cans.

Well, too late to think about that now, he supposed.

And when he’d been released from the crate, he’d found himself in the silent world.

Oh, _shit_.

This was Bjarni’s fault, he’d tell his parents. If Bjarni hadn’t told him the travel ban had been lifted, if he hadn’t encouraged him in his weird roundabout way, then Reynir would never have left home and would never have gotten onto that stupid boat!

He looked around at the odd company – two blondes, one tall and very hairy, two with silver hair (one of whom was glaring at him in a way that both unnerved him and reminded him of the nasty cat that had taken to roaming their farm), and one red-haired giantess.

 _I sure hope none of them are my soulmate_ , he thought. _I’ve just become a great inconvenience._

But a fiendish thought circled the back of his head. _The eagle-owl_ , it whispered. _They may know. It could be any of them_.

A few days in, after a few sneaky brushes on Reynir’s part with his bare hands, he confirmed to himself that it was indeed none of the people present. He released a heavy sigh with that – mostly relief, but also he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Who knew if he’d survive this expedition? He’d die without ever meeting his soulmate, and that was a very sad thought indeed.

What made him sadder was that he was not alone in this revelation. He’d seen Mikkel’s, when the man thought he wasn’t looking. He had peeled back his sleeve and looked at the marks, devoid of colour and faded to the point where Reynir had to squint to see them. Mikkel had already been on the receiving end of this fate, his marks fading without the other life to support them. And he’d seen Onni’s when the mage had rolled up his sleeves to dig in the dirt, a pile of bulbs next to his knees in his haven.

Reynir had stayed quiet, quiet as he could be, silently watching Onni work. The markings on his arm showed sheep and glacier hewn stone, sprawls of red like molten lava dripping down to his wrist. He couldn’t see his elbow, but he did see a splash of brown peering out beneath his sleeve.

When he’d made the mistake of asking, Onni had sent him away. Reynir stayed in the haven – he didn’t really want to walk back over that endless ocean when there was so much to explore here – and paddled in one of the many pools until he woke up.

Onni was Finnish, he knew that much. He was marked with visions of Iceland, his home.

Onni would never meet his other half.

Reynir woke with a wet face.

* * *

 

The quarantine ship arrived, and his siblings face popped out to greet them.

“Hi, guys! You all- _Reynir_?!” Bjarni almost fell off the platform docking the boat to the shore. “ _What the fuck?!”_

“Hey Bjarni!” Reynir cheerfully waved at him, Mikkel and Tuuri looking between the two with bewildered expressions.

“Is there something I’m missing?” Tuuri whispered to Mikkel.

“I do believe we’ve found one of Reynir’s siblings.” He whispered back.

“How’s mum and dad?” He asked, beginning to board the boat.

“Cheeky bastard.” Bjarni scolded, grabbing him by the shoulders. “What are you doing out here?! You’re not immune! You could die!”

“I’m fine!” Reynir batted his hands away. “These are my friends,” He gestured to the crew behind him, “Sigrun, Mikkel, Tuuri, Emil, and Lúlli.”

“It’s _Lalli_.” Tuuri interjected.

She was ignored.

“I don’t care!” Bjarni hissed. “You’re getting on this boat _right now_ , and you’re going _home_.”

“I will.” Reynir agreed. “I think I’ve seen enough.”

The others boarded, Sigrun, Emil, and Lalli looking very very confused. It took Reynir a moment to remember that yes, how could he have forgotten, they didn’t speak a lick of Icelandic.

Perhaps he could teach them? They did have two weeks of quarantine head of them, after all.

Ah, but of course, Sigrun wouldn’t be kept with him. She’d be on the other side of the ship. And Lalli didn’t seem to like him too much; he’d probably get incredibly huffy if he took Emil’s attention away from him.

Reynir wondered why they were so oddly close, but ultimately decided that it probably didn’t matter that much. For all he knew, it was a weird Swedish thing to adopt cat-like creatures.

That left Mikkel. Who already knew Icelandic.

He could always teach them another time, he supposed.

So he resigned to curling up on his bed, pillow in his arms, nattering away to Mikkel about everything and anything.

Two weeks later found them docking in Iceland. He’d promised Bjarni that he’d meet him on the dock – and the rest of the crew were privy to the fact that Reynir was supposed to be going with his brother and not remaining with the expedition crew.

Reynir, however, did not like that arrangement. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, not just yet.

So when no one was looking (he’d insisted he needed to use the bathroom, even going as far as doing a little dance on the spot) he’d slipped away and found their tank, clambering inside one of the remaining crates. It was filled with the remaining ammunition and a few guns that Reynir hoped were unloaded. Thankfully, he didn’t have to take anything out in order to fit in.

He felt the tank moving, the engine roaring into life. He felt the box he was in slide around a little, but thankfully not much. He felt the sway of the sea, and heard the engine cut out. Someone left the tank, the hatch slamming behind them.

And he was alone.

Tuuri had screamed when he crept up behind her, and Sigrun had immediately turned on him, shouting at him in Norwegian.

The nervous laughter that followed got her hands around his throat, more loud and possibly rude words, if Tuuri’s scandalised expression was anything to go by, spilling out before she grabbed him by the collar and dangled him over the side of the ship.

He could feel the sea spray on his face, and he screamed as he madly scrambled to clutch her arms. “Please don’t let go of me!”

“Reynir! She’s asking if you took anything out of the crates!” Tuuri rapidly translated, her hands grabbing onto Reynir’s collar too. Reynir was pretty sure that if Sigrun let go, they’d both end up in the water, but he wasn’t really in any position to point that out so he didn’t.

“No! I didn’t!”

Tuuri rapidly translated. Sigrun shouted something back, clear over the roar of the water below him.

“She says you’re a lair.”

“I’m telling the truth!”

Tuuri quickly shouted something to someone else, and Reynir had a few terrifying moments where he thought he was going to be dumped into the ocean when he was heaved up and dumped on the deck by a very disgruntled Sigrun.

* * *

 

“I thought you were staying in Iceland.” Onni said with a frown.

“A slight change in plan.” Reynir replied.

After they’d all said their hello’s, Emil taking the others on a tour of the house and showing everyone to the guest rooms, Reynir had stayed behind to speak with Onni. After all, they’d met in their dreams, but this had been their first ever time seeing each other face to face.

“What did your family think to that?”

Reynir was quiet for a few moments. “Nothing. They said nothing.”

“… You didn’t tell them, did you?”

“I may have forgotten to mention it.”

Onni sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You are terrible.”

“I don’t mean to be.” Reynir quietly said. “I’m just not ready to go home yet.”

Onni sat on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. _Sit_.

Reynir sat.

“Why not? Don’t you miss your family?” Onni asked, arms folded over his chest as he leaned back, legs crossed at the knee. It reminded Reynir eerily of how Emil sat.

“I do! I really, really do!” Reynir leant forwards, hands planted on his knees as his braid slipped from his shoulder and onto the sofa. “But I want to see more of the world. My siblings have seen so much, it’s not fair.”

“You went into the silent world in a crate.” Onni pointed out. “That’s adventure enough.”

Reynir shook his head. “It was fun, and I can’t wait to do that again, but…” he flopped back onto the sofa, his braid almost whacking Onni in the face, “There’s someone I want to meet. I can’t go home until I find them.”

“Who are you looking for?” Onni frowned.

Reynir’s fingers brushed his shoulder. “My soulmate.”

Onni’s eyes looked red. “I’ve waited eleven years for mine.” He said, pushing himself up. “I wouldn’t bank on you finding them so quickly.”

And with that, he strode from the room.

That night, Reynir woke up in his haven and quickly found all the flowers he could. They were tiny, tiny, pathetic little things that struggled for life in the barren grassy landscape, but it would have to do. He stepped out and jumped the few steps it took to find Onni.

It was bizarre how short the distance was now that they were in the same building.

He found Onni by his usual pool, waist deep in the water with his clothes neatly folded at the shore. His shirt was still on, something Reynir was thankful for as otherwise he would have thought he’d interrupted something private and have promptly died on the spot, and he hadn’t noticed his visitor at all.

Reynir slowly sat by the shore, the waves lapping at his feet as he held the flowers in his arms and watched Onni wade further and further out, words flowing from his lips like a song. He slowly realised that Onni _was_ singing, and the flowers around him were responding in kind.

His flowers suddenly paled in comparison. Onni would probably yell at him and get mad for coming to visit him for no reason. This had been a stupid idea. Why did he think that flowers would cheer him up? Flowers weren’t enough to undo eleven years of hurt.

So he quickly dumped them into the water, hoping that they sunk to the bottom quickly, and he ran.

He missed Onni turning and watching him run away, he missed Onni noticing the ripples on the surface of the water and finding the flowers. He missed the way his eyes lit up as he carefully held the tiny flowers, fingers brushing against their silky surface. He missed the way Onni held them close to him as he carefully gathered them and placed them on his clothes on the edge of the pool. He missed how Onni paused when he picked up the last one, the flower in full bloom. He missed Onni pulling up his sleeve and inspecting the flower blooming on his wrist, comparing it to the one he’d just plucked from the water.

Instead, he woke up and curled up, burying his face into his pillow as he mentally berated himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He looked up from his pillow to make sure he hadn’t woken anyone else. Emil and Lalli were still fast asleep on the other side of the room, although Reynir could have _sworn_ Lalli wasn’t in here when he’d gone to bed…

Not that it mattered. It had clicked when they were in quarantine that they were each others soulmate – he’d seen Lalli’s sun and roses the moment they’d met (they were very vivid on his neck, and his eyes had been drawn to them almost instantly) and he’d seen Emil’s moon and the accompanying lily-of-the-valley’s during decontamination, but the connection between the two didn’t form until he’d watched them sit back to back, never seeming to leave the other alone for long at all.

So of course Lalli was going to sneak out of the room he shared with his cousins and crawl into Emil’s bed and steal his duvet. That was what you did with your other half. Well, that’s what his sisters had said you did, anyway. Reynir wasn’t sure what he’d do with his.

* * *

 

A few days later found Reynir grabbing a slice of toast from a stack of them, wishing Emil and Onni a good morning as he scraped on some butter before taking a seat.

He didn’t realise that his hand was far, far too close to Onni’s and it was too late. The slight brush was enough – part of him screamed that it was just a simple static shock when he felt a jolt run straight through his body, knee slamming into the table, but the louder part of him was _hysterical_.

The one he’d been reading about since he was sixteen, the one who’d left broken feathers, dewdrops, and a kantele on his body was none other than the grumpy mage sat next to him.

Who’d just launched his mug of tea across the room as he choked.

Part of him wanted to die.

The other part of him was firmly in the upper atmosphere, screaming loudly.

Emil looked between them both, absolutely bewildered.

_“What?!”_

But Reynir couldn’t answer. He’d picked up certain words in Swedish in their time together – simple things, like yes, no, danger, troll, run. But he didn’t know the words for “ _I now know why you nearly collapsed into the bath tub_ ”.

Instead he stumbled to his feet, biting back the groan when he realised that Bosse had beaten him to his toast, and collected himself another slice. He couldn’t look back at Onni and see what face he was pulling. He couldn’t look back and see the horror there at having _him_ as a soulmate.

He sat back down a little further away from Onni.

Whatever Tuuri said when she came in went by ignored, Reynir silently staring at his toast.

His search was already over. He had very little reason to stay in Sweden, now. He had no reason to travel the rest of the world. Onni was right – he should have gone home.

At that thought, his stomach clenched and his heart twisted. _No_! He was right to stay with the others, he was right to have escaped from Iceland again! Otherwise he’d have spent the rest of his life in regret, never knowing who his other half was, never meeting them and ending their search, too.

It was better that he had stayed and answered his questions. But now, he had to go.

* * *

 

“I’m going back to Iceland after this press conference.” Reynir said one morning. He hadn’t seen Onni alone for longer than a few minutes since that breakfast when they’d touched hands, and before he’d managed to say anything Onni had quickly excused himself and quite literally ran away.

It stung badly, but he tried to not let himself be too bothered by it. Not everyone got on with their soulmate, after all. The universe sometimes made mistakes.

“Oh!” Tuuri gently put her tea down. “That’s sad. How come?”

“I…” Reynir tossed the words around in his head. “… Just think it’s time for me to go home.” He gave her a weak smile. “I wasn’t ever meant to be here anyway. I miss my parents, they’ll be happy to see me.”

“That’s fair, I suppose.” She looked down into her mug. “I’ll be sad to see you go.”

“I’ll write letters.” Reynir promised. “Where should I send them?”

Tuuri scribbled down her address onto a piece of paper and pushed it towards him. “I’ll get everyone else’s too – we can all be pen pals together! That’d be so cute!” She excitedly replied, bouncing in her seat. “Oh, I suppose I’d better tell you Onni’s address too.” She pulled back the paper before Reynir could stop her.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t think he’d want me writing anyway.”

“Nonsense.” Tuuri chided, scribbling down her brother’s address. “Write as much as you want.”

Reynir folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket.

All too soon, the day came. Emil had wrestled his hair into something more presentable, for which he was grateful. It was still a braid, yes, but it was tighter and no hair was fighting itself free and breaking loose. When no one was watching, he’d watch Onni. The way he carefully watched everything, cold eyes careful and calculating. How he held himself while talking to his sister and his cousin.

His eyes stung, and he blinked rapidly. It didn’t help.

No one noticed when Reynir stood up and slipped away, running off to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, slumping into it at as he stared up at the ceiling and furiously blinked.

_Stop hurting, damn it!_

He choked on a sob when the first tears started falling, fat droplets rolling down his cheeks. His hand clamped over his mouth to muffle the sounds as he slowly sunk down to the floor, hunched over as he curled in on himself.

The universe was oh so very cruel.

All he’d wanted was to meet his other half, to befriend them, to know them well enough to call them family. But instead he had someone who ran from him at every moment, who couldn’t even look at him.

He didn’t want to go back to Iceland, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t spend another moment here.

After a few moments, he wiped his eyes and splashed his face with cold water. You can do this, Reynir. Just a few more hours, then you can get on that boat and go home.

* * *

 

The entire crew saw him off, even the little kitten. After promising again and again that he’d write and work very, very hard to be able to join them properly the next time, Reynir had boarded and found his room.

Hildur was sat on the bed inside, arms crossed as she fixed him with an unimpressed look.

Reynir couldn’t help but burst into tears.

“Oh, no, Reynir I’m so sorry!” Hildur rushed over to him, hastily wiping away the tears with shaking hands. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you!”

Reynir shook his head. “You didn’t, I’m not crying at you.” He wiped away the stubborn tears with his sleeve with a sniffle. “I’m just really going to miss them.”

Hildur pulled him down to the bed, wrapping her arms around him as they rocked together. She petted his hair, smoothing his wild fringe and sweeping it out of his face. “Tell me all about your new friends. I’ve heard you had quite the adventure.”

“Bjarni told you, didn’t he.” Reynir laughed.

“Just that he found you in the silent world.”

“I wanted to go to Denmark.” Reynir snorted. “I guess I got there anyway.”

“How the fuck did you end up there?” Hildur asked, completely and utterly bewildered.

“I snuck into some crates. I didn’t realise until it was too late that the crates were for the silent world expedition.” Reynir sniffed and wiped at his eyes again. “The ship was gone by the time I found out, so I had to stay with them. I met so many fun people, Hildur.” He released a fresh round of tears with a loud sob. “I’m going to miss them all so much.”

“It’ll be okay, little lamb.” Hildur pulled him into a hug. “Tell me about your friends. Maybe I can convince mum and dad to let you travel to see them from time to time.”

Reynir sniffled but nodded all the same. “There’s a tall Norwegian lady called Sigrun. She’s a trollhunting captain in the army; she’s saved my life so many times. She’s really loud and can be mean but she’s also really really nice and considerate.” Reynir felt the tears well up in his eyes again, completely blinding him. “And then there’s Mikkel. He could speak Icelandic too, and he was like our mum. He took great care of us, even though his cooking sucked, and I used to help him a lot. And Tuuri. She can speak so many languages! She can speak all of them, it’s amazing!” Reynir pulled away from Hildur in his excitement. “She knows so much, she’s so so clever and smart. Whenever the tank broke down she’d fix it, and she was so brave when the troll bit her. I mean, she’s okay now, Lalli and I helped fix her, but still.” He smoothed his hair down. “I think she’s who I’m going to miss the most.”

“Oooh,” Hildur teased, poking her brother in the shoulder, “is she your other half, then?”

Reynir’s face fell and his ears rang loudly. His eyes prickled and burned as he felt all the energy leave him.

He couldn’t see Hildur’s face fall for how blurry his eyes were.

“Reynir? Reynir, I’m so sorry I didn’t-“

Reynir shook his head. “She isn’t.”

“You did meet them though, didn’t you?” She quietly said, pulling him back towards her and petting his head. “Are they okay?”

“He’s fine.” Reynir quietly said, his fingers tightly gripping her shirt. “He’s just an ass. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Nonsense!” Hildur chided. “I’m sure he likes you very, very much.”

“As soon as he found out he avoided me and ran away from me.” Reynir bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. “I don’t know why this hurts so much.”

“It will be okay.” Hildur murmured into the fabric of his shoulder. “I promise. Tell me about the rest of the crew, yeah? Forget about that asshole for a bit.”

Reynir nodded. “Who did I get to? Tuuri, I think… Oh, her cousin Lalli was also with us. He’s a mage. He also didn’t like me very much.”

“He missed out then, didn’t he.”

“Maybe. And Emil, our cleanser. He didn’t speak any Icelandic either, or any Finnish, but he got on well with Lalli.” Reynir laughed. “Wherever Lalli was, Emil wasn’t far behind.”

“They must have been very good friends.” Hildur laughed.

“They were. I think he was the only person he tolerated, to be honest.”

“You think?”

“I’ve watched Lalli sprint away from Sigrun before just to get away from her fists. I’m pretty sure.”

Hildur laughed. “Come on, little lamb. Tell me more. I want all the stories!”

“Can’t it wait until I get home?” Reynir whined. “Then I can tell everyone at once!”

“Nope!” Hildur tapped his nose. “You’re telling me everything now.”

Reynir sighed into his arms, but relented all the same. “ _Fine_.”

* * *

 

Reynir breathed in deeply when he stepped off the carriage, his sister following close behind him.

Home. It smelled just like home.

The stench of sheep hit him first, giving way to the sweet smell of the local fruits and flowers. He picked up his bag and walked arm in arm with Hildur, the two walking down the winding path to their childhood home.

“ _Reynir_!”

His mothers voice reached them moments before she did, sprinting towards them with her face wet from tears. She flung her arms around Reynir, sobbing her relief that he was home safe and threats of what would happen if he ever, ever did this again. He dropped his bag and hugged her back just as hard, burying his face into her shoulder and breathing in deeply.

Mothers were always oh so very soft and always smelled very, very comforting.

“I missed you so much.” Reynir murmured into the fur around her collar.

He was surrounded by his family again, deep in the Icelandic countryside. He had his sheep, his own bed; he had his secret hideaways where he could spend hours alone with his thoughts.

He was so happy to be home. He didn’t need his soulmate for that.

The paper in his back pocket crinkled, reminding Reynir of its presence. Once they were inside, his mother boiling a pot of water while Hildur set off to find their father, he took it from his back pocket. It loudly ripped, completely destroying part of an address.

Reynir felt his heart sink when he saw it was Onni’s address.

Well, it wasn’t as if Onni would ever reply, anyway. He couldn’t bring himself to feel too upset about that.

So he smiled at his mother as she pushed a mug of hot water towards him, a mesh bag filled with leaves and flowers infusing inside. He didn’t need his soulmate to be happy. He’d just have to find his own happiness at home.


	2. Chapter 2

Onni was glad to be back home in Finland, where he was sure Tuuri was safe. Lalli would be fine in Sweden, he tried to tell himself. He was with that Västerström, Emil. Their eccentric cleanser. Emil, who managed to teach Lalli Swedish after everyone had failed. Emil, who Lalli willingly accepted physical contact from and even went so far as to hunt it out. It would be okay. He would be okay.

He still wanted him to be home, though. Where he could see him, and make sure he was okay. Where it was easier to teach him, instead of the radio calls and the rare moments they found each other in their dreams. There were some things letters just couldn’t help with, some things that were easier to teach when you were side by side.

After saying hello to the friends he'd left behind, Tuuri being dragged off to be questioned and near interrogated, he set off to the mage's quarters to put himself back on active duty.

It would be okay, he told himself. It would be okay. Just keep moving.

But that night was treacherous. Instead of slipping into his haven as he closed his eyes, he stubbornly remained awake. Even with the familiar smell of his quarters, the collection of flowers in the vase on the counter and the bundles of incense, he could not sleep. Instead, he remembered. He remembered the incident in the kitchen.

The way electricity coursed through him, originating from his hand. How he'd inhaled his tea in shock, burning his throat.

As he'd managed to stop choking and breathe again, he'd looked up to see Reynir staring at his toast in despair. The sight made his heart sink and his appetite disappear.

Of course.

Who would want _him_ , anyway? The grumpy old bastard?

So he busied himself with cleaning up the shards of mug and the spilled tea, mopping it up with a tea towel Siv had handed to him after she materialised by his side.

"It happens." She assured him as she swept up the smaller shards with a broom. Once it had been binned, he excused himself and escaped upstairs to the bathroom.

His eyes were prickling, and he could hear the tears welling up in his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling.

 _Don't cry_ , he tried to tell himself. _It's not worth it_.

It didn't work.

Onni scrubbed at his face, wishing that he'd fall into a dreamless sleep. Anything to get away from this.

* * *

 

"Reynir's been accepted into the Mage's academy!" Tuuri excitedly announced one morning over breakfast. "He's sent his new address, too." Tuuri handed something to Onni, who spared it a curious glance as he nibbled on his crisp bread.

"Good for him." He said as he pushed the paper back towards her.

"Oh, no, it's for you." She said as she pushed it back. "He's written it in here for me, too."

Onni took the paper and shoved it into his pocket.

Tuuri continued, completely oblivious to the look on her brother’s face. “He says that he’ll be there for a few years, but he’s skipped a few classes because of what he did in the Silent World. Isn’t that amazing? He must be so proud.” Tuuri rested her cheek in her palm. “I really hope he can come with us for the next expedition.”

“You’re not going again.” Onni rumbled in reply, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I am and you know it.” Tuuri replied as she bit into her bread with a loud crunch.

“You nearly died.”

“I did,” Tuuri agreed, “but I was fine in the end, wasn’t I?”

This was not an argument he would be winning. He knew that she’d do it again anyway, consequences be damned, and he would end up in Mora _again_ and be stepped on by Torbjörn _again_ when he found himself locked out of the house.

Such a nuisance.

“I am not sure how much use I will be.” Onni replied as he sipped on his tea. “But I will try my best.”

“It’s okay.” Tuuri glanced up from the letter. “We didn’t really need it anyway.”

Onni tried to not let that grate on him too much, but his eyes still prickled.

Of course Tuuri didn’t know what he’d done. _Of course_.

“I need to go to my post.” Onni announced, leaving his half-eaten meal behind. “I’ll see you later.”

“Oh? But you’ve barely… finished…” Tuuri looked up to see that her brother was already gone.

“Was it something I said?” She wondered aloud before shrugging, deciding it was just her brother being himself, and continued to read the letter.

* * *

 

The flowers Reynir brought him had survived well, much to Onni’s surprise and well-hidden delight.

His luonto enjoyed stealing them and weaving them into their nest, positively preening and chirping like an adolescent whenever they saw that Onni was looking. Yes, Onni. These are _my_ flowers now.

Cheeky bastard.

Wisely, the owl never touched the flower in full bloom, the one that matched the mark at his wrist. That one stayed out by the pool where Onni had first found them, carefully planted in the best soil Onni could find, dug up from the lakebed. The flower would never take root again, he knew that much, but it was still nice to try and maintain it.

While Onni wandered around his haven, plucking mushrooms and gently running his hands over the lichen that clung to the trees, he wondered what he could send to Reynir. The other may not have wanted anything to do with him, but he had to have a reason to give him his new address. Otherwise, he would have never sent that extra slip of paper – a precious enough resource as it was in Iceland – to Tuuri with the express instruction to give it to him.

He couldn’t bring himself to write a letter. Whenever he’d sat down after dinner at his desk, a candle burning brightly and pen in hand, the words just wouldn’t come. He’d drop splodge after splodge of ink on the page, yet no letters came from it. It took until the candle had burned down to its end for him to accept that it wasn’t going to happen that night, and he’d retire to bed.

Reynir never came to visit again. Somehow, Onni had come to expect it while his family was still in the Silent World, and at the time he considered it to be an annoyance. But now?

Now, it was just lonely.

He found himself wondering close to his boarders, trying to convince himself he was just on the hunt for more mushrooms when really he was hoping that he’d see a splash of red where it didn’t belong. Where he wanted it to belong.

Damn it, he missed him.

He missed waking up still feeling the phantom sensations of Reynir’s hair whipping his face, as often as it did. It had hurt at the time, but Onni wanted to feel it more than anything. He, weirdly, missed the tinge of annoyance he’d feel whenever he turned around and saw Reynir awkwardly stood behind him, the goofy little smile on his face and the tiny wave he’d always do without fail. He wished that he hadn’t lashed out when Reynir asked about his marks; he wished that he’d asked about Reynir’s sooner.

Maybe then they could have avoided this whole mess.

Then there would be no misunderstandings. He could have told Reynir that he didn’t care if he found love with someone else, even though he did and the thought of it absolutely killed him. Maybe, just maybe, he could have done the same.

But the way he woke up in the middle of the night after those dreams, his face raw and eyes burning as his body felt like a dead weight, Onni knew that it just wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you sleeping okay?” Someone had asked him one morning after he’d had to have the same thing repeated to him at least three times before he realised he was being spoken to.

“I’m fine.” Onni had insisted. They knew he was lying through his teeth, but they didn’t push it.

That suited him just fine. He didn’t really want to talk about it.

He worked as needed. If his wards were weaker than usual, no one commented on it. They knew what he’d had to do to keep his family safe; they all silently assumed Onni was still healing.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Tuuri had asked worriedly while she walked with her brother towards her quarters, the sun slowly sinking below the horizon. “I didn’t see you in the mess hall.”

Onni thought to the half-eaten crisp bread that sat on his bedside table. He hadn’t touched it in days.

“I have.” He lied.

“We’re all really worried about you.” Tuuri frowned, her voice cracking. “If something’s wrong, please tell me.” She squeezed his hand, her head ducking. Onni barely noticed the tremble in her shoulders, his eyes prickling.

_Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You’ve cried enough._

“Please tell me.” Tuuri buried her face into her brother’s chest, letting the soft fur of his cloak tickle her face. “Please. You’re all I have left.”

_I can’t lose you too._

Onni felt his resolve break as the first tear fell, splashing onto his sister’s hair. He wrapped his arms around her, cloak protecting her from the elements as they cried, clinging onto each other.

They must have looked a sight.

Neither really cared.

“We should go inside.” Tuuri laughed, voice stuffy as she wiped a cheek with her sleeve. Onni wiped the other with the meat of his palm. “We must be scaring the neighbours.”

“I’ll take you back.” Onni replied, hand on her back as he began steering her towards her quarters. She dug her heels in, clinging onto his shirt.

“Can you stay?” She quietly asked. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

“I’ll stay.”

* * *

 

“This reminds me of when we were little.” Tuuri said as she grabbed the extra blanket she kept stashed away for the extra cold nights. “When I’d sneak into your room and we’d make a tent from the blankets.”

“And you’d insist on the side by the wall.” Onni replied, shrugging out of his outerwear and shoes. “Even though that side was the coldest.”

“I didn’t want the monsters to get me.”

“So you wanted them to get me instead?”

“You were my big brother.” Tuuri replied as though it solved everything. “You’d protect me.”

“Hmm.”

Tuuri threw the extra blanket at him. “Still remember how to set it up?”

“I doubt I’d ever forget.”

Ten minutes and a lot of swearing later, the blankets were set up. Tuuri climbed in first, sticking her tongue out at her big brother as she slid right up to the wall. Onni had noticed as he tied the blanket up that the mattress dipped there as though it had been worn down.

“Do you always sleep against the wall now?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Always.” Tuuri replied as she shuffled aside to give her brother room to clamber in. She quickly stooped down to take a book out from under her bed, presenting it to Onni. “Remember this book?” She asked.

Onni slowly took it from her, the title slowly registering in the dim light of the lantern. “Somewhat.” He flicked it open to the first page, the faded colours standing out against the dulled paper.

“This was your favourite.” He quietly said as he flicked through it, slowly remembering all of the stories. The way Tuuri used to beg for Onni to read to her before bed, how she’d demand certain stories and the way she’d happily wriggle into his lap and stare up at him with huge eyes as he read them to her. “I didn’t know it still existed.”

“I still read it, sometimes.” Tuuri said as she curled up into her brother’s side, leaning against his shoulder. “It’s not the same without you, though.”

“Would you like me to read it again?”

“Please.”

Onni opened it randomly, deciding whatever tale he landed on would be the one he read. It had been so long, neither cared which one it was. Anything would do.

It opened to a girl with long, long hair, dragging on the floor behind her. She was combing through it, separating it into three sections as if to plait it.

Onni felt his heart throb in his chest.

_Oh, god._

He didn’t realise how long he’d been stuck for, just staring at the page while his pulse thudded in his ears and his heart fell from his chest. He slowly realised that Tuuri was nudging him, voice taking on a worried tone.

“-ni?”

“Sorry.” He quickly turned the pages until he was at the beginning, and took a deep breath to steady himself.

_It’s not him. It’s not him. It’s not him._

“We always said that Reynir was like Rapunzel.” Tuuri quietly said as she made herself comfortable, pulling up the second blanket to wrap around them. “His hair genuinely got _everywhere_. I found it in the engine a couple times.”

She looked up when Onni didn’t reply, startling at the silent tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared down at the pages. She quickly took the book from his hands, fearing that he’d ruin it before taking his hands into her own shaking ones.

“Onni? Onni, please, please stop.”

“I can’t.” He replied, finally looking at her. Tuuri felt fit to cry herself at what she saw in his eyes – nothing. None of the usual spark, or the cold determination. She had to look away.

Her eyes fell on the marks on his arm. Cold realisation dawned on her like a bucket of ice water.

Oh, oh god. _Reynir_.

_It was Reynir._

She should have realised sooner. The marks on Reynir’s shoulder, the _damn_ _feather_ that matched her own brother’s luonto. The sheep that snuggled to Onni’s elbow, and the fact that Reynir had previously herded sheep.

She was an _idiot_.

“You need to talk.” Her voice wavered.

“I don’t think he wants to.” Onni looked to the side, away from Tuuri. He couldn’t bear to see the broken look on her face right now. “I don’t blame him.”

“Then why would he give you his new address?” Tuuri sniffed, settling herself in her brother’s lap. Screw it being childish and inappropriate at her age - Onni was her big brother, damn it, she was getting a cuddle. “Onni, you have to. Even if it’s just a word.”

“I wouldn’t know what to say.”

“I’ll help you.” Tuuri grabbed a handkerchief, pushing it into Onni’s hands. “You’re crap at Icelandic anyway.”

“You know just how to cheer me up.” Onni looked moments away from shoving her off his lap.

“I’ll teach you.” Tuuri insisted. “Please, you can’t do this to yourself.”

He loathed to admit it, but she was right.

* * *

 

“The post’s here!” Someone excitedly shouted in the mess hall. A sea of students immediately leapt to their feet, rushing towards the front office.

Reynir got there first.

“Reynir Árnason… here. You’re very popular today.” The woman said, handing him his letters held together with twine.

“I’m so excited!” He chirped in reply as he grabbed them and quickly left.

He excitedly ran into his dorm with his letters in hand, nearly slamming the door shut behind him in his haste. His roommate gave him a bewildered look before deciding it wasn't quite worth it to ask, and left to give him some privacy.

Reynir picked up the most exciting letter first, the one that was the thickest. He carefully opened it, peeling back the paper, and pulled out its contents.

Something wrapped in cotton fell onto his lap, a small slip of paper fluttering out with it. After a moments consideration, he picked up the paper.

_So you may know what it looks like whole._

_\- Onni_

Oh.

He carefully unwrapped he fabric, heart pounding, and an eagle-owl feather was revealed. It hadn't been harmed in any way, no segments missing or bent or half-formed. The colours were bright and vibrant, and it felt oh so very soft.

Carefully, he peeled back his shirt and compared it to the feather on his shoulder.

The one on his shoulder looked like it had seen better days in comparison – much, much better days – but he loved it all the same. The letters remained forgotten as he carefully ran his fingers over the feather, over and over and over.

He couldn’t believe it.

Onni had written to him.

He’d _actually_ written to him.

When he’d given Tuuri two copies of the address, asking her to give one to Onni, he’d thought it was a shot in the dark. He didn’t think Onni would do it, but he supposed desperation pushed him to that point. He hadn’t left his haven since he’d returned to Iceland, he didn’t go looking for the others. Onni would have been proud, finally staying put.

The academy had taught him how to ward his mind, how to keep the nasties out and the good things in. So Reynir spent his nights doing just that, already three steps ahead of his peers who were still struggling to enter their dream space. Some called it luck. He called it the Silent World Treatment.

He didn’t count himself lucky.

Reynir carefully, oh so very carefully, wrapped the feather back up again and tucked it into the envelope with the piece of paper before sliding it under his pillow for safekeeping. The other letters could wait, now not nearly as exciting as the plan that was forming in his mind. He grabbed his wicker basket, woven after many weeks of bruises, blood, sweat, and tears, and ran outside.

He had lessons that day, but he didn’t care. He had to do this. He ignored the distant rumble of thunder and the dark dark clouds above him as he knelt in the middle of the field, plucking wildflowers and grasses. Even as the first droplets came down, he simply wiped them out of his eyes and continued harvesting grasses.

“What’re you doing?” A girl asked, holding an umbrella over him. “You’re soaked.” A pause as she inspected his cracked and bleedings hands. “And hurt.”

“Hi, Dagny.” Reynir cheerfully replied. “I’m getting some things to make paper with.”

“But we have paper inside.” Dagny replied, raising an eyebrow at him. “Come on, you’ll get sick.” She tugged at his arm.

“No, it’s okay.” Reynir still didn’t look up at her, continuing to pick at the greenery. “I’ll be in soon.”

“You’re creeping me out a little.” Dagny frowned. “Come on, Reynir, I’m not going to take care of you if you’re sick. And I’m not dressing your wounds!”

“Don’t have to.” Reynir sniffed, pausing to wipe at his face again. “I just need to find something.” He stood up, basket in hand, and ran.

Dagny ran after him, slipping and sliding on the wet ground.

“Wait! Reynir, wait!” She skidded over, landing on her ass as she slipped on a particularly muddy patch. “I wont stop you, I promise! Just, please, wait!”

Reynir didn’t stop running.

* * *

 

Onni felt his heart hammering away in his chest when he found a letter from Iceland in his pigeonhole.

The other letters in there went ignored – they weren’t important right now – as he clutched it to his chest and ran to his quarters.

He’d managed to get some tidying up done in there. After he’d sent the feather off to Reynir it felt as though a weight had lifted from his chest, and for the first time since he’d left Sweden he’d had a good nights sleep. He took it as a blessing, and with his newfound energy he’d cleaned his room up.

Once his quarters were presentable, the windows thrown open to let in some light, Onni sat at his desk and carefully opened the envelope. It came as absolutely no surprise at all when a few strands of red hair poked out.

The first part of the letter was almost totally ruined, the paper having crumbled into pieces, so Onni was very, very gentle with the delicate remainders. He set aside the crumbled pieces, making a mental note to try and piece them together later.

_I've never made paper before! It was actually harder than I thought it would be. Dagny said that this would arrive in one crumbled mess. I hope she’s wrong, I’d hate that._

_The Mage academy is okay. It's not as scary as I thought it would be. I'm one of the only guys in my year, though, which feels a little weird but I suppose I'll get used to that._

_The feather is lovely. I love it. A lot. Thank you._

_I hope this flower doesn't get too crushed. I can try and find you another if it does._

_Reynir_

The paper was falling apart in his hands, making it somewhat of a chore to read, but he did. Over and over and over.

The flower was whole, barely crushed in transit. Reynir had carefully dried and pressed it, rendering it flat but he didn’t care. He pulled up his sleeve, exposing his wrist, and compared it to the flower there.

They matched.

He quickly scrambled to find some paper and a pen. He refused to delay his reply – Reynir deserved better than that.

His shaking hands knocked a book from the shelf, and he swore to himself as he knelt down to pick it up. A few flowers he was currently pressing fell out, resulting in more vibrant swearing as he opened the pages and carefully put them back in, ensuring that they were safe and whole. As he went to put it back on the shelf, a dried out stem poked out from the back. Frowning, he took the book down and opened it.

He was almost certain he hadn’t left any flowers the last time he’d been pressing them.

Apparently he had. A flower that he distinctly remembered pressing the previous summer stared back at him, bright bright red with splashes of white around the edges. _A geranium_ , his grandmothers voice said in the back of his mind. _I was always fond of those_.

He slipped it out and placed it on the desk. Reynir would probably like that one, too.

This time, writing was easy. Without Tuuri there, breathing down his neck, it was easier to think of the words.

So he wrote.

* * *

 

Reynir held his jacket close to him as he stood by the docks, staring out over the water.

He had his bags with him, Bjarni stood by his side as he casually chatted to his crewmates.

“Are you excited to be going back to Sweden?” He suddenly asked, nudging his brother. “I’m amazed mum and dad are even letting you go.”

“It’s academy business.” Reynir said as he finally tore his eyes from the water to look at his brother. “They can’t stop me.”

Bjarni whistled. “What a rebel.”

“I’m excited to see Emil and Lalli again, though. I can’t believe I got chosen to join them!”

“It is kinda weird.” Bjarni rubbed the back of his neck. “Out of all the more experienced mages, they chose you? Doesn’t seem right.”

“Emil probably sweet talked someone.”

“Ooh, admitting to bribery?”

“Never said I was involved.”

“Hmm, fair. Anyway, boat’s here.”

Reynir’s neck audibly clicked as his head shot up. Sure enough, the boat was on the horizon.

“Oh my god!” Reynir excitedly jumped up and down, clapping his hands together. He couldn’t wait!

Emil had sent him a letter outlining the cleansers plan to help the Finnish cleanse more land – himself and Lalli were on the team being sent due to Emil’s experience in the Silent World and Lalli’s knowledge of the forest of Finland. He’d said that the Finns had requested the help of some mages, and that they’d be travelling with the cleansers.

And he’d asked if Reynir was interested.

He couldn’t get his reply sent quick enough, as badly as his excited hands were shaking.

_Yes. Yes. A hundred times, yes._

Bjarni couldn’t have stopped Reynir from sprinting onto the boat if he tried. The crew on there switched off, glad to be back on dry land, and their relief flooded onto the boat in Reynirs wake.

“Shouldn’t you stop him?” Someone asked Bjarni, awkwardly pointing at his little brother.

“Naaah.” Bjarni waved him off. “He’s excited to see his friends again.”

The way back to Sweden wasn’t so bad, Reynir supposed. It took three times longer than he remembered, but they didn’t meet a single sea beast and for that he was grateful. He wasn’t ready to see another beast just yet.

Bjarni, had, of course, heard _everything_ about Onni. He had been, understandably, absolutely _furious_ and had spent a good few hours ranting about it, viciously butchering the mutton his parents had presented him with. The cuts they were left with were mangled and mauled, but Bjarni was on the warpath and so it was not mentioned.

When he was off shift they’d spend some time together, Reynir talking his ear off about the academy and Bjarni sharing stories about his escapades into the great unknown. Of course, he knew that they’d never live up to Reynir’s ‘ _I ended up in the Silent World in a tuna crate_ ’, but he could live with that.

“What’s then plan for when you get to Finland, then?” Bjarni asked. “Isn’t that bastard there?”

“Don’t call him that.” Reynir scolded. “He is. But I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of each other, I’ll be with the Icelandic mages.”

“He is one, though.” He muttered under his breath. Reynir gave him a hard pinch.

“Ouch!”

“I heard that.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Bjarni rubbed under his nose. “Anyways, I was thinking of going to Finland with you. When we stop off in Sweden we have a week or so until we have to set sail again so the boat can get serviced.”

“Oh… why?”

“Want to see it all again.” Bjarni shrugged. “And want to see this Onni guy. Size him up.”

“Please don’t fight him.”

“I wont. Promise.”

“I can see your fingers are crossed.”

Bjarni shoved them behind his back. “Promise.”

Reynir narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re so irritating, you know that?”

“Hildur makes a habit of calling me such in our letters, so yes. Very aware of that.”

“I want to sleep.” Reynir shoved his brother away. “I’ll find you later.”

“Aww, Rey-rey, don’t be like that!” Bjarni said, trying to smother him. Reynir’s leg shot out, foot planting itself in his chest as he pushed him away.

“Nope! I’m tired!”

“You’ve literally just napped – I can see your duvet is messy and you’ve got bed hair-“

“You’re threatening to beat up my soulmate!” Reynir spat back. “I’d rather sleep than listen to that.”

“He hurt you.” Bjarni’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t accept that.”

“I’m over it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Nah, not good enough.” Bjarni sniffed. “I still wanna fight him.”

“Why? He’s a complete stranger!”

“He made you cry. Only I’m allowed to do that.”

“That’s so stupid.” Reynir huffed. “I don’t _want_ you to fight him, okay? Please don’t. I’ll cry.”

“He,” Bjarni poked Reynir for emphasis, “didn’t have to hear you crying yourself to sleep for an entire week. Just because he sent you a feather and a few crumbly old flowers, doesn’t excuse that or make it all better.”

“I’ll deal with it myself!”

“Yeah, sure.” Bjarni snorted. “ _Sure_ you will.”

“You’re just being rude now.” Reynir frowned at him.

“You’re just too soft.” Bjarni ran his hands through his hair, eyes widening as the boat rocked just a little _too_ hard. “Regardless, I do want to visit Finland. I don’t want to be kicked out the moment I get there, so he’s safe so long as he stays the fuck away from you.” He patted his younger brother on the head. “I’d better go see what that was. Go nap, or whatever.”

Reynir couldn’t think of a smart reply, so he simply silently watched his brother leave.

 _Bastard_.

* * *

 

They met Emil and Lalli in Sweden.

They did not consider the slight, slight problem of the language barrier.

Reynir spoke Icelandic, and Icelandic only. Emil was getting slightly better at reading and writing Icelandic, but speaking it was a leap too far.

Lalli did not care for Icelandic. Not a single bit.

Thankfully, Siv had joined them at the dock and was more than happy to translate for them.

“Your boat leaves in a few hours, so you both have time to show Reynir around. Why don’t you take him to your apartment?”

Emil thought to the absolute mess they’d left the bedroom in, not having time to sort it before they had to leave to collect Reynir.

“Hmm, perhaps not. We could show him around Mora?”

“We could go and fix the bedroom.” Lalli said in Finnish so Siv didn’t understand. “Then we wont have to when we get back.”

“You raise a good point.” Emil replied.

“Whatever you choose, make sure you’re at the dock in time for the ferry. The next one isn’t until next week.” Siv said in Swedish.

“Noted.”

Bjarni clapped Reynir on the back and said something in Icelandic, waving at them before leaving and joining the group of similarly dressed people on the other side of the docks. Reynir gave him a little wave, barely more than a twitch of his fingers, before turning back to the others.

“Bjarni says that he’ll meet you on the ferry.” Siv translated. “I’d better go back home, you’re all welcome to pop in if you have the time.” She waved as she translated it for Reynir.

That left the three of them.

Lalli slid a chalkboard out of his bag (Emil wasn’t going to question where he’d gotten it from) and pushed it into Emils hands, brandishing a stick of chalk.

“Where do you find these things?”

Lalli shrugged.

Right. Code for ‘stolen’, then.

Emil quickly scrawled the words he remembered onto the chalkboard, trying to tell Reynir that he’d show him his apartment.

“Ugh, shit, what was apartment again? Maybe home would be better…” Emil rolled the chalk between his fingers, thinking of what words he could use.

Reynir swayed from foot to foot.

Was it this hard with Lalli?!

Eventually, he got the words out. Reynir seemed to understand enough as he gave a big cheesy grin and a thumbs up.

They took Reynir the short way, avoiding the busy areas where they might lose him and away from all the tempting shops. After Lalli had unlocked the front door, Emil distracted Reynir with a drink while Lalli slunk away to deal with the mess.

It wasn’t that they were untidy people, no, nor was it that they’d intentionally made the mess.

They simply couldn’t find their ferry tickets, and by the time they’d been found they only had a minute to get their coats and shoes on before they had to be halfway down the street to make it to the docks in time. Sacrifices had to be made, and one of them was that they’d have to come back to a messy bedroom.

Lalli slipped into the seat next to Emil in the kitchen, watching him messily scrawl on the chalkboard as the two handed it back and forth between them. He leaned against his shoulder, eyes lazily following the path of the chalk.

He didn’t understand a single word, but he didn’t care too much about that anymore. He didn’t need Tuuri to translate for Emil, and that was good enough for him.

* * *

 

Lalli had crawled onto a bunk when they boarded the boat, his face already a sickly shade of green. Emil silently slid a bucket towards him before making himself comfortable on the bunk next to him.

Reynir had busied himself with a ball of yarn, pulling his knitting out of a little bag around his waist. From the looks of it, he’d already spent a lot of time working on it.

Emil wondered if it was worth asking Reynir to teach him to knit, but eventually decided that it would probably be too much to try and learn. Instead, he lay back and tried to focus on the task ahead.

He was being sent with Lalli to Finland ahead of the other cleansers, partly to establish contact and _scout out_ , as it were, the area that was to be cleansed, partly as training to earn his next promotion, and mostly because Emil had insisted on it. They hadn’t understood at the time, but Emil was dead set on getting at least a few days where it was just himself, Lalli, Tuuri, and Reynir. It wouldn’t be quite the same without Mikkel being the ever-present voice of reason and Sigrun being the reason they needed a voice of reason, but he’d take what he could get at this point.

He itched to get back into the silent world. He never thought he’d be saying that, the memories of their last expedition still fresh in his mind, but there was nothing quite like six people stuck in a tank, surrounded by complete and utter solitude. A good bit of character building, as Sigrun had poetically put it.

He was getting side tracked.

Once the rest of the cleansers arrived, himself and Lalli would be whisked away to help incinerate the forests. Part of him hoped that the squad they were being sent with understood that Lalli preferred to work alone, and he only ever tolerated Emil following along behind him. Anyone else would find themselves abandoned in an unknown forest. He smirked to himself when he realised that Lalli would be the one to orientate the Swedish scouts.

 _Sucker_. He was going to be so grumpy.

And then there came Reynir. The Finnish mages had asked for a bit of help with their protective warding as they were expecting a warm summer and needed to reinforce what they already had, so a group of Icelandic mages had been released from the academy in order to help. When Emil had heard that they, the cleansers, would be taking them for added protection, he’d leapt on the chance to push Reynir’s name forwards. After all, he knew first hand how well his runes worked.

Lalli crawled into the bunk next to him, situating himself on his lap and not giving a single shit about what the people walking past thought, he rested his head on Emil’s shoulder and groaned.

“Are we nearly there yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have a very good relationship with either of my siblings, so I actually have zero idea how siblings who actually get on interact? I’m really glad that people enjoyed Reynir’s interactions with his siblings regardless.  
> Coming back to messy bedrooms after travelling is the worst! Anyone else hate it too, or is it just me? They feel colder.  
> And…. There’s just one more part, provided it doesn’t run away with me like this one did.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last one! Hope ya'll enjoyed this mess.

Reynir had his face plastered to the window as they pulled in through the gates of Keruu.

Lalli was sulking under the table, curled up as he tried his best to not throw up. Emil was sat on the bench next to him, silently reading the book he’d brought while keeping an eye on Lalli. It wouldn’t do to let him throw up on the floor, after all.

“How you holding up? Tired yet?” Bjarni asked as he slid into the seat next to Reynir. Reynir gave him a sour glance before returning to staring out of the window. “Rey-rey, you can’t seriously be mad at me.”

“I am.”

“Why?” Bjarni threw his arms up in annoyance, almost knocking the bowl to the floor. “You know I’m not seriously going to beat him up. What kind of animal do you take me for?”

“The kind who is considering beating up Onni.”

Bjarni exhaled heavily. “Fine. Whatever. I promise not to punch him.”

“… Thanks.”

“He deserves it though. You know that?”

“You’ve said that like, five times today. I know.”

“Good.” Bjarni huffed. “We’re docking soon, apparently. Go wake your friend up.”

Reynir wordlessly slipped away, walking over to Emil and Lalli. He gave Emil a little wave, tapping on the table before pointing out the window.

Emil seemed to understand well enough, gently shaking Lalli awake and stooping down to pick up both their bags.

They docked quickly, the boat lurching slightly as it situated itself by the dock. Bjarni was one of the first off, Reynir clinging onto his arm while Emil and Lalli followed at a far more sedate pace, Lalli working his bag off of Emil’s shoulder before holding it himself.

Many years ago, Emil had read in his textbooks that humans had once upon a time managed the inhuman feat of jumping eight feet from the ground. At the time he’d been unable to picture it. Eight feet? Eight whole feet? Preposterous!

And yet, he was being proven very very wrong.

Bjarni flew down like an angel of death, Reynir unable to stop him. He sprinted from the boat, and used the posts to give him extra leverage as he leaped up into the air –

\- and kicked Onni square in the face.

“BJARNI!” Reynir shouted, face red as he ran down after him. Emil blinked and Lalli had almost teleported from his side to Onni’s, glaring daggers at Bjarni.

Bjarni was shouting something in Icelandic, but Emil knew from the tone and the aghast expressions on everyone’s face that it was probably very, very rude.

Onni took his hand away from his face, his nose bleeding heavily. Emil thought for a second that perhaps he would be civil about it. He was in the presence of his younger sibling and cousin, after all, not to mention his superior officers.

Nope.

He was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

But _damn_ , did Onni have the _meanest_ right hook he’d ever seen.

Bjarni made a strangled noise as Emil could _see_ his nose break; stepping backwards only to find that there was no dock behind him. He slipped off with a yelp, landing in the water with a loud splash.

Well, that was quite the greeting.

Emil jogged over, debating whether or not to help him out of the water. He ultimately decided against it as he dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to Onni.

“You… okay?” He asked in halting Finnish.

Whatever he replied with Emil didn’t understand, the fabric muffling his words.

“We should get him to a medic.” Tuuri said in Swedish, a hand on her mouth while the other was on her brother’s arm. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Why did he do that?” Emil asked as he walked with them, glancing back to see Reynir pulling them out of the water.

“No idea.” Tuuri replied, frowning as she looked back. “Do you think Reynir knows them?”

“Wait, you don’t know him?!”

“Not me… Hang on,” She turned to Onni and asked him something in Icelandic. He gave her an exasperated look before replying, his accent thick. “Nah, Onni doesn’t know them either.” She frowned. “Well, that’s weird.”

“That’s _Reynir’s brother_.” Emil hissed, leaning in close. “Why did he drop kick Onni?!”

“I don’t know!” Tuuri whined. “Maybe that’s just how he says hello?”

“Then he would have drop kicked me when we met.” Emil tapped his chin. “Maybe Reynir said something that started a grudge.”

Tuuri went very, very quiet at that.

“Yanno,” She began, fingers worrying her bottom lip, “that… might be the reason…”

The three hadn’t noticed that Lalli wasn’t with them until they saw him running towards them, a medic in tow.

“Did you find them?” Tuuri asked him. He nodded before he tapped the medic’s shoulder and pointed at his older cousin.

“Told you he got kicked.”

Onni wanted to frown at that and almost launched into a lecture, but controlled himself. Talking hurt, moving his face hurt – _everything hurt._

“Oh, dear.” The medic reached for their medical kit. “Let’s take a look at that then, shall we?”

* * *

 

“Unbelievable!” Reynir shouted as he pulled Bjarni out of the water. He didn’t know why he was helping the traitor, he really wanted to make sure Onni was okay. “I literally can’t believe you right now.”

“What?!” Bjarni grabbed onto the edge of the dock and pulled himself up the rest of the way. “I said I wasn’t going to punch him!”

“Doesn’t mean you can drop kick him!” Reynir almost shoved him back into the lake. “Why the fuck did you do that?!”

Bjarni opened his mouth to reply, but Reynir decided that he didn’t really care what he had to say for himself. “No, no, don’t. Hold it. I don’t care.” Reynir huffed and looked to where Onni had been standing just moments ago, making to check that he was ok-

Gone. He wasn’t there anymore.

Bjarni ended up in the water again.

Reynir found himself aimlessly wondering around, trying to work out where to go. He’d come ahead of the other mages – they were all coming over with the cleansers – and Tuuri had promised that she’d show him around and show him where he was meant to be staying.

Thus far, no sign of her. Or Emil. Or Lalli. Or Onni.

Reynir felt his gut twist. Why had he stopped to pull his brother out of the water? Why hadn’t he just gone straight to Onni? He must think he hated him, that he thought what his brother did was okay.

It was most certainly _not_! He was _so_ mad!

Onni was also mad.

“I’m missing a tooth!” He hissed into the mirror, pulling back a swollen lip to reveal a gap. “A whole tooth!”

“Holy shit, he must have kicked you pretty hard.” Tuuri said as she leaned in to inspect. Emil and Lalli looked between the two of them, absolutely bewildered.

Why were they speaking _Icelandic_? Weren’t they Finnish?

“Do you understand a word they’re saying?” Emil whispered to Lalli.

“Not a single clue.” Lalli whispered back. “They’re being weird.”

“Language.” Onni snapped at her. “What are they whispering about?”

“Probably wondering why we’re not speaking Finnish.” Tuuri smirked.

“Care to enlighten them, given how I’m forbidden to speak it?”

“Nah, it’s funny this way.”

“For you, perhaps.” Onni frowned as he put the mirror down, feeling around his mouth with his tongue. Nope, just the one tooth gone. He could deal with that.

“You’ll find it funny, too.” Tuuri smirked. Her face suddenly fell. “Oh, no.”

“What?”

“ _I left Reynir_. I was meant to show him where he’s staying!”

“Go find him.” Onni gestured for her to go. “I need to speak with Lalli anyway.” He briefly glanced at Emil. “Take the Swede with you.”

“Uh, not that I’m against that, but why?”

“Private.”

Fair enough, she supposed. She said something to Emil in Swedish, probably an order to follow her, and he stood, said goodbye to him in Finnish, and followed Tuuri out.

“Are you going to be weird?” Lalli asked, hands scrunching the fabric on the hem of his shirt.

Onni dabbed at the gap in his jaws with the cotton gauze the nurse had given him. Clearly, Lalli’s time in Sweden with the Västerström boy hadn’t provided him with any manners.

“I’m not going to be _weird_.” He huffed, adjusting the gauze to find a clean patch. “I just wanted to talk.”

Lalli narrowed his eyes. “I’m not staying.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Onni levelled him with a look. “I was _going_ to ask how your training was.”

“Oh.” Lalli had the decency to look embarrassed. “It’s… fine.”

“And your magic?”

A slight wince. “It’s okay.” A quick glance up. “Needs work.”

He had assumed as much. “I’m happy to teach you again until the autumn.” He dropped the gauze into the bin, satisfied that the bleeding had been staunched enough. “When would you like to begin?”

“Now.”

Onni stood and gestured for Lalli to do the same. “We’ll pick up where we left off a few days ago.”

* * *

 

Tuuri found Reynir meandering around the medical wing, picking at his fraying braid. She jogged over to him.

“Reynir! I’m so so sorry!” She called, coming to a stop at his side. “I got distracted by my brother getting dropkicked and I totally forgot!”

“Oh, no, it’s okay.” Reynir assured her as he dropped his braid. “I’m so embarrassed. That was my brother.”

“Where is he now?” Tuuri nervously asked. She didn’t want Onni to catch sight of him again – he’d probably try and get revenge for his tooth.

“I pushed him back into the lake.” Reynir simply said. “Probably back on the boat. I don’t think he wants to stay here, given he did that in front of a lot of people.”

“A good idea. He pushed in front of the line.” Tuuri smirked. “I’ll show you where you guys are staying, then we can hang out somewhere.” She glanced at Emil, who had been silently watching the whole exchange, not understanding a single word. “Emil? Do you know where to report in?” She asked him in Swedish.

“Uhm, yes? Yes. Yes I do.”

“You should probably go do that.”

“See you both tonight?” He asked, giving a mock salute with two fingers. Tuuri nodded.

“I’ll save you seats.”

Emil turned and walked off, Tuuri wondering if she should have done that.

… Naaah. It’d be okay. He wouldn’t get lost.

“Okay, this way!”

“What did you mean by ‘pushed the line’?” Reynir nervously asked.

“Let’s just say your brother isn’t the only one who wants to hurt him.”

“Does he have a lot of enemies then?”

“You could say that.” Tuuri nodded.

Tuuri lead him through the winding streets, happily chattering away about everything that had happened since her last letter. How they’d had ice thick enough to stand on covering every body of water, how she’d spent a few days simply skating with Onni. She assured him that it was still thick, and insisted that they both go skating on it.

Relucantly, Reynir agreed. So once she’d shown him his room and he’d dumped his bags on the bed, she’d grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back outside.

“It’ll be exciting, I promise! Skating’s easy. I mean, not as easy as it would be with skates, but still easy.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Reynir admitted, suddenly with cold feet about the whole thing now that he was stood at the edge of a frozen lake. Tuuri was standing on the ice, incredibly sure footed as she slid around in front of him, hands outstretched towards him.

“It’ll be okay,” Tuuri promised. “We were skating on this yesterday just fine.”

“Okay…” Reynir nervously stepped out onto the ice, foot sliding this way and that until Tuuri took hold of his hands, gently encouraging him out onto the ice proper.

“Don’t look at your feet, okay? Focus on me.”

Reynir nodded, trying to relax. It was hard to skate and stay balanced when he was stiff as a board – just, deep breath Reynir – just focus on Tuuri. It’d be okay.

“Oh, shit, that’s Onni and Lalli!” Tuuri squeaked as she peered over Reynir’s shoulder. “He must be having a lesson…”

“Onni teaches Lalli?” Reynir asked.

“Yeah.” Tuuri gently encouraged him to spin with her; their hands locked at the others elbows. “When Grandma died, Onni took on the teaching role for Lalli. He doesn’t usually take on students, though. Made too many kids cry.” She snickered. “Was very funny, though.”

“How is that funny? That’s awful.”

“Grandma’s teaching style isn’t… _suitable_ for everyone.”

Reynir was in position to watch the two Finns, curious as they came to a stop on the other side of the lake. They were far enough away that Reynir couldn’t properly make their face’s out, but he was sure that if someone were to shout they’d hear them pretty well.

“You’re pretty good at this!” Tuuri laughed as she loosened her grip. “Try and skate on your own, come towards me.”

She let go of him, Reynir suddenly feeling like an unsteady baby deer as his hands clenched and unclenched in front of him. She slid back a few paces and held out her hands again.

“Come on, I’ll catch you.”

Reynir gingerly slid his foot forwards, then the other one-

He.. he was doing it! He was skating! And Tuuri, that evil bastard, was skating backwards and away from him.

“ _Tuuri_!” He whined, “Stop, please, I’m going to fall!”

“No you’re not!” Tuuri laughed, giving a little spin on the ice before sliding right back over to him. “If you were, you would have by now.”

That was true, he supposed. So he allowed himself a little glide, feeling a laugh bubble up in his chest.

After a few minutes of skating around on the ice, he felt brave enough for a spin. So he copied what he had been watching Tuuri do for the past five minutes, and he twirled around, arms outstretched while his braid flung around him like a destructive snake.

He laughed, the sound of his delight echoing over the lake. As he came to a stop, overbalancing and landing flat on his ass, he spotted Lalli smacking Onni upside the head to get his attention.

Oops. He hadn’t meant to be distracting.

“See! It’s fun, isn’t it?” Tuuri squealed as she slid to his side and helped him up. “Hey, watch this.”

Tuuri slid a few meters away, but before she could do anything Reynir noticed something was very, very wrong.

The ice beneath her was cracking.

She didn’t notice.

Reynir ran, not caring that he was making it worse. He had to get her away from the cracks!

“Tuuri! The ice!” he shouted as he slammed into her side, pushing her over and sending her sliding a good few meters. She watched in shock as Reynir sunk down a few inches, the ice giving a great crunch as it caved-

His shriek was cut off as he was plunged into the water, his head going under. It was cold. So, so cold! He had to viciously fight the instinct to gasp in his shock, his hands clamping over his mouth.

What did he do?! Everything hurt, like a thousand tiny needles were being roughly stabbed through him. His chest ached, and his fingers were numb.

Air. He needed air. He blindly kicked to the surface, hands scrabbling at whatever purchase he had as he grabbed on and broke the surface.

Reynir felt his head spin as he tried to pull himself out of the frigid water, hands weakly scrabbling on the slippery surface.

"Reynir!" Tuuri shouted as she skated over, falling to her knees as she tugged on his arm. "Onni, help!"

He felt cold. So cold. Colder than he'd ever been in his entire life!

"How long has he been in there?" A deep voice asked. Reynir briefly wondered why he could understand them.

"Not long." Tuuri replied.

Something pulled him out of the water, carrying him to the shore. He tried to stand on his own two feet to no avail - his legs weren't responding.

"Go get a medic." The man said. "I'll take him to my quarters."

Reynir didn't hear what else they said, all his attention suddenly focussing on the warmth that surrounded him.

So warm.

He pushed his face closer to the source, belatedly realising that he had been picked up and was being carried. He didn't mind too much.

"Thank you, Onni." He murmured. Internally he was going through everything he had been taught about falling through ice. There admittedly wasn't much - given how volcanically active Iceland was, they didn't really have much in the way of frozen lakes. At least, he'd never been on or near one. His parents had never let him, and as he now realised, for a good reason.

He needed to get warm. His wet clothes would have to go, but he'd need a dry pair before that could happen.

His clothes were on the other side of the compound.

Too far away.

Well, blankets were also good. And fire. Heat sources in general, like the one he was currently pressed against.

“How’re you feeling?” Onni asked, adjusting his hold slightly.

“Your Icelandic is better.” Reynir lazily commented. He wasn’t sure why, out of all the things he could comment on, his language was what he chose. He also wasn’t sure why he’d said that. He hadn’t been asked that.

“Tuuri will only speak to me in it.” Onni looked very disgruntled. “We haven’t spoken Finnish together in weeks.”

“I remember when she tried that with Lalli, only with Swedish. Didn’t work.”

“… I don’t imagine it did.”

“You’re really warm.” Reynir said as he slowly closed his eyes and pushed his face into plush fabric. “Really really warm. It’s nice.”

“Don’t fall asleep.” Onni warned as he adjusted his hold, Reynir hearing the sound of a door being unlocked. “The medic still needs to see you.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

His promise didn’t last very long at all. Onni had gotten to starting a fire while Reynir was in the bathroom, peeling off his soaked clothes and changing into the dry ones Onni had given him. The trousers didn’t fit, and the shirt was slightly too big, but it was comfy and much much better than his own wet clothes. When he staggered out of the bathroom, his body still numb, Onni had thrown his fur cloak over him and pushed him down to sit in front of the fire. Reynir leaned against the wall, slowly closing his eyes, and the next thing he knew he was waking up in someone else's bed wearing someone else's clothes.

It smelled very very familiar.

He pushed himself up with a tired mumble, rubbing at his eyes. Where was he? What happened?

Slowly, he remembered. The ice, falling through a weak spot. Onni carrying him home, giving him warm clothes to change into and his cloak to wear. Falling asleep in his quarters by the fire.

Embarrassing? Definitely!

But not as embarrassing as it was to have his brother fly out and kick Onni in the face. _That_ was _traumatic_!

To Onni's credit, though, his retaliation punch had been pretty damn impressive.

But where was Onni? He hadn't left him alone, had he?

He made to get up, but he felt a spot where the blankets were being pressed down slightly and looked down to see Onni fast asleep on the floor, head resting against the mattress with his arms folded across his chest.

Reynir gathered up as much of the blanket as he could and slid to the floor next to him, leaning heavily against his shoulders as he threw the fabric over him.

It kind of worked, he supposed?

Onni jumped as he came to, eyes flying around the room before settling on Reynir’s.

"You're awake." He said, breath whistling through his teeth.

"You're missing a tooth." Reynir dumbly said.

"No thanks to your brother." Onni sourly said. "How're you feeling?"

"Murderous. Where's Bjarni?"

"Your brother?"

Reynir nodded.

"The medical unit have him." Onni replied. "You need to rest, you fell through the ice."

Reynir shuddered. "That sucked. A lot."

"It does. Didn't your parents ever teach you how to get out?"

"It never came up."

"Figures." Onni sighed through his nose. It sounded wet. "I'll teach you when you're feeling better." He closed his eyes and rested his head back onto the mattress.

"I feel fine." Reynir insisted. "I feel much better now I've slept."

"Maybe tomorrow, then." Onni cracked an eye open to peer at him.

"I'll hold you to that."

The silence that followed was awkward. Really, really awkward. Unasked questions hung between them, the metaphorical elephant in the room.

_What are we going to do?_

Onni awkwardly tapped his knees as he chewed his cheek. He had to say it. Better to do it now than later, so he had less opportunity to chicken out.

"I've been meaning to tell you something." Onni said, swallowing thickly. Reynir looked up from where he'd been watching his own fingers trace patterns on his knees.

"Mhm?"

"I... Do not mind if you find love in someone else." He resolutely stared at his fingers, still tapping a rhythm on his knees. "Not all soul bonds are romantic, I don't want you to feel tied to me."

Reynir's fingers stopped moving. "Do you not see me in that way, then?" He asked.

Onni gritted his teeth. He'd expected this question, but he didn't know how to reply at all. Part of him was screaming that yes, yes he _did_ and he never wanted to be without him again, but the other part was resigned in admitting that he simply did not know. He didn't know what he wanted, despite having had eleven years to think about it. Those eleven years hadn't revealed to him that it was Reynir he was linked to; that it would be the one who had managed to worm his way into Onni's life without either party realising until it was too late. He was woefully unprepared after resigning himself to the fact he'd never find them, only to accidentally brush hands with them while in his pyjamas in a foreign country.

"I..."

"You don't have to lie to spare my feelings." Reynir patted his arm. "I get it. Honestly."

"I don't know what I see you as." Onni slowly replied, carefully picking his words. "But I want you to be happy."

"I want you to be happy, too." Reynir said, sitting up straight. Onni missed the contact already. "Did you want me to go?"

"No." Onni shook his head, his traitorous eyes prickling. "Stay. You need to rest."

"... Okay." Reynir shrugged off the blanket and pulled the fur cloak Onni had wrapped around him closer to stave off the chill of the night air. "You know, when Emil asked me to come with him I was so excited about seeing Tuuri again I didn't really think about anything else. About what my parents would think about me being gone for half the year. Or how you'd feel about it." Onni stayed silent, staring at the wall opposite him while his eyes burned. "I don't think I can extend the same offer to you, either. I _do_ mind if you find someone else. I suppose that makes me rather selfish, doesn't it?"

"Why do you care?"

Reynir laughed, although there was no humour in it. Onni knew that the sound would haunt him for a good while yet. "I don't know. It's stupid. You probably only see me as that annoying, helpless little Icelander who just happened to stumble across you."

It felt like a punch in the gut. That had been true. It _was_ true. It felt bitter, and Onni had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from saying anything. He'd only make this worse.

But his traitorous, traitorous mouth began moving, words spilling out unbidden. His lip slipped from his teeth as the words flew off his tongue.

"It got lonely without you. I suppose I got too used to you being there." His hand clenched, head turning to look away from Reynir. "But I feel that the universe made a mistake."

"I don't think it did." Reynir said as he placed his hands over Onni's clenched fist. "I still... Want to try."

"I don't deserve it."

"But you want it, don't you?"

Onni finally turned to face him, staring into the glistening wide green eyes. His chest throbbed.

He did. He did want it.

"I'd like that."

“We can try being friends, if you’d like.” Reynir quietly said, swallowing hard. “It’d be easier for us that way.”

That was true.

Friends. He could do that.

* * *

 

While Emil and Lalli spent their summer torching down forests, Reynir and Onni spent theirs fortifying the wards around Keuruu.

The other mage's had arrived with the cleansers as agreed, and Reynir was finally orientated. While the cleansers set out with a handful of scouts, the Icelanders were paired up with the more experienced mage's to help them with their wards and barriers. Apparently someone had noticed Onni and Reynir had spent time together, and had paired the two up. "Onni usually makes younger mage's cry," they had explained. "He's very difficult to find a match for. You haven't cried yet."

Reynir had tried to argue against that, not sure how to explain their strange situation. Didn't it go against protocol to have soul mates working together? It was in Iceland - the distractions could be too great. But Onni hadn't mentioned that detail to anyone, and Reynir didn't want to test his patience by spilling the beans. So he kept quiet and decided that it would be their fault if anything came about it.

He also carefully didn't mention that Onni _had_ made him cry. They didn't need to know that, either.

The summer was hot, heat radiating from the ground in shimmering mirages. It was hotter than Onni ever remembered a summer being. It was the hottest Reynir had ever been.

They started early in the morning, when the air was still cool and the breeze gentle. By midday, Reynir would have shrugged off his clothes until he was stood in a thin cotton shirt and his trousers, the discarded clothes in a pile behind him. By mid afternoon, Onni would have followed suit.

They finished their assigned section quickly, and so Onni allowed Reynir to goof off and splash around in one of the pools of water. The younger man delighted in how refreshingly cool the water was as he dipped his toes in, pulling his trousers up to his thighs as he waded in deeper.

"Why don't you come in too?" Reynir called to him, the older man sat in the shade of a tree. "It's really nice."

Onni didn't reply, and Reynir thought that he'd maybe fallen asleep when he sat up and began pulling off his socks.

"Very well."

Reynir grinned at him, wriggling his toes to bury them in the sand at the bottom. It felt slightly disgusting, and he knew he'd be rubbing his feet on everything later to get rid of the sensation, but at that moment it was all he could do to express his giddy joy.

Onni hesitantly dipped his foot in, his mouth set in a line as he fully committed.

"It's very cold."

"It feels amazing, though."

Reynir turned and continued wading out into the middle. He didn't notice the mossy rock until it was too late.

He slipped with a shriek, falling into the pool of water. Even underneath, he heard Onni's laugh.

"Don't laugh!" Reynir whined as he surfaced, Onni still allowing a snicker. "I could have died!"

"No you couldn't have." Onni scolded as he helped Reynir back up, slapping away his wet braid. "The water barely covers your knees."

That was true, he supposed. But still. The principle of it! The last time he’d been underwater like that he almost froze to death!

Reynir bunched the bottom of his shirt and wrung it out. There was no way it'd be drying any time soon. The walk to his room would be fun, what with the trail of water he'd leave behind.

Onni appeared to have taken mercy on him. "Here," he said as he stripped off his shirt. "It's still dry."

Reynir silently accepted it, staring at Onni in awe. Did he just give him his shirt?

Yes, yes he did.

He didn't realise his mouth was hanging open until Onni reached forwards and pushed his jaw up.

Maybe he was in too deep. The 'let's-try-and-be-friends' scheme wasn't going to work. He knew the 'run-over-and-kiss-him-senseless' scheme wouldn't fly over so well, however, so he supposed he'd have to make do.

Peeling off the soaked shirt proved to be an effort, Reynir wriggling around like a trapped worm as he tried to get it off. It clung to his jaw like a leech, his hair trapped in it. He felt more than heard Onni's amused huff against his bare neck, his larger hands helping to free him from the shirt.

"Better?"

"Better." A pause. "Thanks."

While Reynir set about pulling Onni's shirt on, he took a moment to watch the other man. The sunlight glittered on his back in an almost inhuman way, and Reynir startled when he realised that it was scar tissue he was looking out. The same stuff decorated his elbows and knees after some nasty falls as a child.

What had he been through to cause that, he wondered.

His eyes drifted down, and he felt a smile tug at his lips when he saw the colourful markings on his arm. That was him. They were all _him_. Part of him was sad that they weren't on his back, covering up the nasty scars, but he was also glad that they were unharmed by whatever trauma befell him.

He pulled on the shirt. It smelled just like Onni. A smile tugged at his lips.

"We'd best get back before anyone questions how long we've been gone." Onni said as he rolled his trousers back down, holding his shoes and socks in one hand and remaining clothes in the other. Reynir shot him a teasing look to hide the disappointment that he'd slipped his tunic on.

"What, worried they'll question it?"

The way Onni's face flushed was enough of an answer.

They walked through Keuruu, Onni ignoring the lingering glances he received. It was very, very rare for him to walk around with his arms exposed. And given the soaked man next to him, wearing a shirt a size too large? Even more glances.

Reynir found it slightly harder to ignore, and every so often he would glance up at Onni to try and ground himself in the forever-unchanging expression on his face.

* * *

 

That night, Reynir curled up with the shirt. When he buried his face into it, he could smell the incense that Onni liked to burn and the fir trees that populated the forests around them. He hoped that the smell lasted until he woke up.

It did.

He had been far, far too tired to enter his haven that night and had slept deeply instead. He didn't mind too much.

After breakfast, he quickly gathered his things and ran off to Onni's quarters. The shirt had been carefully folded and placed into his bag - perhaps if he got there fast enough, Onni wouldn't be without a shirt for the day.

He knocked thrice on the door, pushing it open despite how Onni didn't say he could enter. Now he thought about it, he never did wait for permission with these things.

Empty.

Hmm.

He was about to turn and leave when he heard the sound of running water. Oh, right. He was probably in the bathroom. Was it weird to wait for him?

... Reynir didn't want to be weird. He put the shirt on his pillow and quickly left.

Onni dropped the soap as he jumped, not expecting to hear his door slam.

What the fuck?! Had someone come into his quarters?!

He quickly shut off the water, grabbing a towel to protect his modesty as he stumbled out of the bathroom, eyes sweepi-

There, on his pillow. He strode forwards and leaned down slightly to inspect the garment.

It was his. The one he had leant to Reynir, if the strands of red hair were anything to go by. He frowned and looked to his door. Why had he brought it back so soon? Couldn't he have brought it by later on that day?

Shaking his head, he walked back into the bathroom and began to dry himself. He didn't have time to properly wash himself now, but it didn't really matter that much when the muggy heat would reduce him to a sweating mess in a few hours anyway.

It wasn't as if he couldn't have a quick dip in a pool later on to refresh himself.

He pulled on his clothes, taking care to make himself look presentable, when against all judgement he picked up the shirt he had given to Reynir.

The shirt smelled like Reynir. He couldn't but a name to it, but the smell was familiar. The cool and crisp taste of ice, the warmth and comfort of his mothers lap, the hint of foreign spices. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that Reynir was there, was right next to him.

He blearily opened his eyes. No, no. He couldn't allow himself that. He didn't deserve it, it was wrong of him.

He shoved the shirt into his wash basket and made a mental note to do his washing that evening.

Tuuri eventually came by and dragged him to the mess hall, shoving letters into his hands and nattering away at him over breakfast. He slowly opened them one by one. Mostly they were boring - just updates from the Mage's office about this and that, and some were activity reports in the areas he was in charge of warding. He tucked those into his pocket to show to Reynir later, so they'd both know where to focus.

And then came the last letter, the one he'd saved as it was delivered in a bright red and frankly terrifying looking envelope.

Cautiously, it was peeled open and he slowly edged the contents out. His eyes flicked over the words, not really taking it in until he had to pause in his eating and read it again.

And again.

And _again_.

Surely that couldn't possibly be right?

"Onni?" Tuuri asked, her voice thick with worry. "What's wrong?"

"I think there's been a mistake." He swallowed thickly. "I've been paid for the expedition."

"Really?!" Tuuri snatched the letter from his hands, reading the Icelandic as easily as she did her native Finnish. "This isn't a mistake, Onni." She handed it back. "For some reason, they've decided to compensate you for something." She frowned. "Did you work for them while you stayed?"

"Only to earn my keep." Onni replied as he pushed it back into the envelope. He'd never ever seen so many numbers in one place, and to know that was what his bank account would look like was astonishing. He didn't really know what he would do with that money, if he were entirely honest, but he'd find something.

"That's..." Tuuri tapped her chin, "strange. But whatever. You can get a new gun now."

"I don't want a new gun." Onni scoffed. "My current one is perfectly fine."

"Whatever you say." Tuuri smirked into her porridge. "Anyway, I wanted to ask something."

Onni felt stones in his gut. Oh, that tone was _never_ any good. Tuuri was conspiring about something or other, and that never ever ended well for anyone involved.

"I suspect you're going to ask anyway." Onni sighed into his tea.

"What's this I heard about you showing off your marks? Some people had forgotten you even have them."

Onni felt wounded at that. "That's rather rude."

Tuuri shrugged. "I'm sure they meant nothing by it. Was it really that hot yesterday?"

"... Reynir fell in a pond."

"Don't change the subject."

"They are related." Onni paused as he mustered the courage to continue. "His clothes were wet and the sun was setting, so I leant him my shirt."

"But you _never_ lend your clothes out! You still hold a grudge against the last time!"

Onni didn't need a mirror to know he was bright red. "A one off occasion."

"Aawww!" Tuuri shoved her hands on her mouth, almost inside. "That's _so_ cute! You like hiiiim~!"

"It is hard not to." Onni argued, deciding that yes, his bland porridge was _certainly_ more interesting than his sister right now. "He is rather likeable. You are also his friend, remember?"

Tuuri swatted at his arm. "Don't be like that. You know exactly what I mean."

He hated that he did, and he despised that she was right.

"Don't push your luck." He warned her, downing the rest of his breakfast. "I'll be back in the afternoon."

"Be safe! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

The scathing look he gave her would have been enough to have even the most hardened recruit shaking in their boots. But not Tuuri. She simply blew him a kiss and returned to her letters.

* * *

 

He had found Reynir by the dock, the other man leaning against one of the posts that were sunk into the shore as he stared out over the expanse of water in front of him.

"Miss home?" He asked, the words twisting like knives in his chest. Part of him wondered why he had even asked. The other part answered that he was worried he would leave.

"A little." Reynir admitted. "Not that here is bad!" He quickly stuttered as he turned to face Onni, leaning against the post. "Here is great. I love it here, honest! I just..." He slowly looked back over the water, exposing his collar and the bright feather, "... Haven't seen my parents in a while."

"You'll be able to return in the autumn." Onni replied. "It's too dangerous to sail in the summer." He wouldn’t let him go.

"I guess that’s true.” Reynir pushed away from the post. “What’re we doing today?”

“I received some activity reports, we’re going to reinforce the wards in those areas.”

Reynir waited outside while Onni went into the Mage’s headquarters, a small building painted a dusty blue. He came out a few moments later, nodded at Reynir, and gestured for him to follow. They returned to the area they had warded on their first day, Reynir kneeling to inspect the runes he had etched into the ground.

“Something’s ruined this one.” He grumbled as he smoothed the dirt over with his shoe.

“Know what?”

“Probably an animal of some kind, the prints don’t look unusual.”

That seemed to settle Onni’s nerves. Reynir set to scratching the stave back into the dirt, letting the prayer flow over his tongue like water.

They had nearly finished that area when Onni thought to look up. It had strangely gotten darker without either realising, the clouds looking menacing. The only other warnings of the impending storm were the wind picking up and a few birds escaping to the sanctuary of the forest.

“I think it’s going to rain.” Reynir said.

It was as if his words had jinxed it. No later than a minute after the words had left his lips did the first raindrop fall, a fat droplet that splashed on his nose.

“Quick, there’s a cave near here.” Onni said as he quickly gathered Reynir under his cloak, holding it above them like a tent as they ran Reynir laughed all the way.

“What is it about me getting wet?” Reynir laughed as he wriggled off his sodden shoes, damp feet slapping onto the stone of the cave. “I swear I usually stay dry. It’s just this country.”

Onni let his shoes fall to the floor with a squelch. Eugh, _disgusting_.

“I don’t know about that.” He began, taking off his shirt to wring it out. “I do seem to remember you falling into the water in my haven.”

Reynir spluttered. “That doesn’t count!” His face burned, but he wasn’t sure if it were embarrassment or from the sight of a shirtless Onni, with damp hair and water beading around his neck-

Reynir quickly turned away as he squeezed water from his braid. Nope! Nope! Not going down that particular road!

He heard the crunch of gravel as Onni sat down, leaning against the side of the cave. He had his shirt back on, thank the gods, and his arms were folded across his chest as he stared outside. The rain was still lashing down, turning the outside world into a blur.

“I don’t think it’d going to let up any time soon.” Reynir quietly said as he sat opposite him, shivering. He rubbed his hands together and pressed them into his arms, relishing in the slight relief it gave him.

“Come here.” Onni said, beckoning him with two fingers and tapping them on the ground next to him. Reynir crawled forwards, almost jumping in surprise as Onni wrapped an arm around him and shared his cloak with him. His face was bright red, and he looked as though he were trying his hardest to fight and deny it. “Warm?”

“I am. Thanks.”

Reynir allowed his head to fall onto Onni’s shoulder, laughing to himself at the way it made Onni jump and clench his fist. “Do you think the rain will last long?” He asked.

“No way of telling.” Onni replied, voice tight. Reynir frowned. Had he gone too far?

“What would you like it to be?”

“Over soon. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Reynir felt himself deflate slightly at that. Onni was right – they _did_ have a lot of work to do, but he couldn’t help but feel somewhat disappointed that Onni didn’t want to simply sit with him, arm holding him close to stave off the worst of the chill.

“But…” Onni continued, arm around Reynir tightening, “It’d be sad for this to end so soon.”

“It’s relaxing.” Reynir mumbled as he made himself more comfortable, burrowing his face into the meat of Onni’s shoulder. “The rain always sounds nice.”

Onni made a strangled noise, and Reynir’s head shot up. His eyes widened in tandem with Onni’s as their noises brushed, and he could feel Onni’s breath on his face – oh, gods, that was intoxicating – and he could see his pupils widen-

Onni swallowed. Reynir saw his throat bob in the edge of his vision. His hand, the damn traitorous thing, slowly reached up and placed itself firmly on his chest, lightly gripping the fabric.

It felt rough under his fingers. He wondered if it felt that rough to Onni.

Inside Onni was a war.

_We should._

_We shouldn’t._

_We should._

_We really shouldn’t._

Even as a hand moved to the small of Reynir’s back, even as he felt his pulse quicken and ears burn, his mind was banging pots and screaming no. It wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work. He was in Finland, where they needed him. Reynir would go back to Iceland, and who knew when they’d see each other again? Sure, they’d be able to meet in their dreams, but it wasn’t the same. He’d still wake up with a deep ache in his chest because Reynir wouldn’t be there waiting for him, he’d forget what he smelled like and the way the sun reflected off his pale skin in a blinding beacon of light. He wouldn’t get to see the way he stuck his tongue out when he concentrated or hear him cooing at the birds. And Reynir, poor Reynir, would be left wanting, would be left waiting for something that was never going to happen.

The decision was ripped out of his hands, though, when Reynir closed the gap between them. He was gentle, and cautious, for which Onni was grateful for. It was brief, chaste, and everything Onni could have wanted.

“I-I’m sorry, was that okay?” Reynir stammered, looking fit to bolt. Onni tightened his grip on him.

No. No more running.

He pulled Reynir back as way of answer, barely noticing the pleased rumble in his chest. But, gods, did the little whimper Reynir gave in response go straight through him.

They broke apart, faces flushed and breathing heavily.

“That was okay, then?” Reynir asked.

Cheeky bugger.

“More than.” Onni murmured in reply. The decision had been taken from him, but the way his heart soared and a foreign feeling bubbled in his chest, he knew that it was better off this way.

They could make this work.

That autumn came too soon. Before they knew it, Reynir was being whisked away with the other mages. The cleansers were to stay a little while longer, just to make sure that all the nasties really were gone, so Onni and Tuuri only had to say goodbye to one person.

“Tell Emil I say thank you so much for recommending me.” Reynir said to Tuuri as they hugged goodbye. “It’s been incredible.”

“I will.” Tuuri said as she gave him one last squeeze. “Tell your brother, Bjarni, that Onni is always up for a rematch.”

“Oh, god, no.” Reynir jumped away from her. “No, thanks.”

Tuuri pouted. “Was worth a try. Do you know where Onni is, anyway? He was meant to be seeing you off.”

“I saw him this morning.” Reynir tapped his chin. “Maybe something came up?”

“No, he’d still make sure he was able to come.” Tuuri argued. “This is weird.”

Reynir hoped that Tuuri didn’t focus too much on his wording. He _had_ seen Onni that morning – because he’d woken up with him. And if anything, he knew that Onni had a series of very, very impressive looking marks decorating his neck and collarbone that he’d likely be wanting to hide. And when he’d looked in the mirror that morning, he found that he too was sporting a very similar set of marks. He’d braided his hair to try and hide it. At least they’d be gone by the time he returned home – his parents and family would be none the wiser, and his teachers wouldn’t know what he’d gotten up to in Finland.

Eventually, Onni did turn up. His cloak was fastened in a way to perfectly hide his neck, even if it did look a little odd.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay!” Tuuri assured him. “The boat doesn’t leave just yet anyways. What took you?”

“Minor distraction.” His eyes flicked to Reynir. “Nothing too extravagant. Where are Lalli and Emil?”

“They’re still out in the field.” Tuuri frowned. “Emil’s disappointed he couldn’t make it.”

“He doesn’t need to be.” Reynir assured her, “I understand why. We can always write to each other anyway.”

“That’s true, I suppose.” Tuuri replied. The boats horn went off. “Oh, shoot!”

Reynir squeaked. “Oh, no!” He quickly leapt at Onni, hugging him tightly. “I’msorrythisissorushed! Bye, I’ll see you soon I hope!”

Onni hugged him back just as tight, quickly kissing one of the bruises he’d left behind before letting him go. “You’ll miss your boat.”

“Be totally worth it.” Reynir said, holding Onni’s shoulders as he kissed him on the lips. Before Onni could protest, he’d grabbed his bags and sped onto the boat.

Onni was red as a tomato, his mind going a mile a minute.

Oh, gods, he’d never live this down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely refused to make this a four-parter. Nope. Nope. Not happening.  
> I will probs come back to these boys later on.  
> Pls let me know what you thought <3


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